Lunar Orbit — Arzachel Combat Zone
Time refused to move forward.
Kyousuke Asagi could only stare as Captain Hale's Duel Dagger drifted helplessly, its signal flickering between existence and nothingness. Emergency strobes blinked weakly across the shattered armor, each pulse feeling like a heartbeat struggling to continue.
"No… no no no…"
His breath came shallow, fogging the inside of his helmet.
This is my fault.
The words echoed endlessly.
If he hadn't frozen.
If he hadn't listened to that voice.
If he had been stronger—
"ASAGI!"
Leo Vargas's voice cut through the spiral.
"Don't look away!" Leo shouted, his Hyperion G straining as its energy barrier flared under continuous impacts. "They're still here!"
Kyousuke barely registered the incoming fire streaking past. His mind was still trapped in Orb—burning streets, falling Mobile Suits, the sound of his mother screaming for casualties that never stopped coming.
> "Pattern repeating," Lily Thevalley said softly.
"Loss of parental figures. Loss of commanding officer."
"Your psychological structure is fragile."
"Shut up…" Kyousuke whispered.
The Nebula Blitz Gundam hovered at mid-range, not attacking—observing.
The Proto-Saviour moved again.
Ile de Llorar's Gundam surged forward, blade igniting as he aimed straight for Kyousuke.
"Enough of this farce," Ile snarled. "If you're going to break, do it quietly."
The Proto-Saviour closed the distance in an instant.
"INCOMING!" Leo screamed.
Kyousuke didn't move.
Not because he couldn't—
—but because part of him didn't want to.
Then—
A massive shadow slammed between them.
The Raider Full Spec.
Commander Isaac Rowan interposed his machine, taking the Proto-Saviour's strike head-on. Armor screamed as reinforced plating barely held.
"Get your head back in the fight, Asagi!" Rowan roared. "Hale didn't drag you this far so you could die like this!"
Kyousuke flinched.
Dragged…?
No.
Chosen.
A memory surfaced—Hale standing beside him in the hangar, hand on his shoulder.
> "You adapt."
Maya Feld's Verde Buster fired again and again, beams stitching space around the Proto-Saviour, forcing Ile back.
"He's buying time!" Maya snapped. "ASAGI, MOVE! NOW!"
The word hit him like a slap.
Move.
Kyousuke's hands tightened around the controls.
His parents hadn't frozen.
His mother had kept running into fire.
His father had launched knowing he might not return.
And Hale—
Hale had flown in front of him without hesitation.
"I…" Kyousuke's voice shook. "…I'm still here."
The Strike Dagger's thrusters flared.
Kyousuke surged forward, not toward the enemy—
—but toward Hale.
"Rowan! I'll cover you!" Kyousuke shouted.
Rowan grunted. "About damn time!"
Kyousuke swung his Strike Dagger around Hale's drifting unit, firing wildly—not clean shots, not efficient ones, but aggressive, unpredictable fire that forced the Proto-Saviour and Nebula Blitz to pull back.
Lily's sensors flickered.
> "Behavioral shift detected."
Kyousuke's vision cleared.
"Yeah," he growled. "I'm still fragile."
He fired again.
"But I'm not broken."
The Nebula Blitz retreated slightly, red armor glowing faintly as Lily recalculated.
> "Instability… increasing."
Ile clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Tch. You're wasting my time."
Rowan secured Hale's unit with magnetic clamps.
"Tow complete!" Rowan reported. "Maya, Leo—cover our withdrawal!"
Leo's barrier flared brighter than ever. "I-I've got you! Just go!"
Explosions rippled across the battlefield as Arzachel's automated defenses finally began firing indiscriminately—Librarian's final gift to ensure chaos.
On the Librarian channel, Matisse's amused voice sounded.
> "Excellent data. Begin phase withdrawal."
The Proto-Saviour pulled back, thrusters blazing. The Nebula Blitz lingered a moment longer.
Lily looked at Kyousuke one last time.
> "You survived again," she said softly.
"I will update your file."
Then she vanished into the debris.
Silence fell—uneasy, temporary.
Kyousuke hovered beside Rowan as Hale's battered unit was dragged toward the Beowulf's extraction corridor.
"Hale…" Kyousuke whispered. "Please… live."
The war had taken much from him.
But this time—
Kyousuke Asagi refused to let it take everything.
Agamemnon-class Refit "BEOWULF"
The hangar had become a battlefield of a different kind.
Sparks rained from severed armor plating as engineers swarmed over the wreckage of Marcus Hale's Duel Dagger, cutting, prying, and forcing open a cockpit that had nearly fused shut from internal explosions. Hydraulic tools screamed as they bit into scorched metal, the air thick with smoke, coolant vapor, and the metallic stench of burned circuitry.
"Careful—pressure spike!"
"Life-support conduit's crushed—reroute now!"
"Don't jostle the frame, his spine's pinned!"
Kyousuke Asagi stood just beyond the safety line, frozen.
Two hours.
Two hours of watching men and women fight steel and time while alarms counted down the life of the man who had pulled him back from the abyss more times than he could remember.
His hands were clenched so tightly his gloves creaked.
Please… just get him out…
Finally—
"There! We've got visual!"
The cockpit canopy gave way with a tortured groan, peeled back inch by inch. Inside, Marcus Hale was slumped forward in his restraints, flight suit soaked dark with blood, helmet cracked, visor spider-webbed from the inside.
He wasn't moving.
"Extracting pilot now!"
Medics slid in, their movements precise despite the urgency. Neural leads were severed, restraints cut, emergency braces applied. When they finally lifted Hale free of the cockpit, Kyousuke felt his breath hitch.
Hale looked impossibly small without his Mobile Suit.
"Vitals?" someone demanded.
A medic glanced at the monitor, jaw tightening.
"Pulse is weak. Massive internal trauma. Lung collapse, severe burns, neural shock—"
She swallowed.
"—he's critical. Fifty–fifty at best."
Kyousuke's vision blurred.
Fifty percent.
That was all the war was willing to give.
---
Medbay — 02:47 Hours
Machines hummed softly in Medbay Three, their steady rhythm the only thing keeping panic at bay. Surgeons moved with grim focus, hands stained red beneath sterile lights as they fought bleeding they couldn't see and damage no scanner could fully map.
Kyousuke stood outside the transparent partition, helmet tucked under his arm, forehead pressed lightly against the glass.
"Captain Hale…" he whispered. "I'm here."
Inside, Hale stirred.
Barely.
His lips moved.
One of the medics leaned in. "He's semi-conscious—keep him stable!"
Hale's eyes fluttered, unfocused, but his mouth kept working, as if clinging to words by sheer will.
"…kid…" he rasped.
Kyousuke's breath caught.
"I'm here, sir," he said, voice shaking. "I'm right here."
Hale didn't seem to see him—but he smiled faintly anyway.
"…take… care… kid…"
The monitor spiked—then dipped.
"…I'm… coming… Julia…"
The name hung in the air, fragile and intimate, spoken like a promise kept far too late.
Then—
The line went flat.
A single, endless tone filled the room.
"—No!"
"Cardiac arrest!"
"Clear—!"
The defibrillator fired once.
Twice.
Nothing.
The lead medic's shoulders sagged.
"…Time of death," she said quietly. "0300 hours."
The machines were silenced one by one.
The room felt impossibly empty.
---
Kyousuke didn't realize he was on his knees until his gloves hit the floor.
"No…" he whispered. "You said… you said everything would be okay…"
The words came apart in his throat.
Behind him, Rowan removed his helmet and lowered his head. Maya Feld turned away, jaw clenched so hard it trembled. Leo Vargas stood frozen, eyes wide and wet, barrier pilot hands shaking uselessly at his sides.
Captain Marcus Hale—pilot, mentor, shield—
Was gone.
Kyousuke pressed his forehead to the glass, shoulders shaking silently.
Orb had taken his parents.
The Moon had taken his captain.
The war kept taking—and this time, it had taken someone who had believed in him when he couldn't believe in himself.
As the medics gently covered Hale's still form, Kyousuke felt something settle deep in his chest.
Not fear.
Not despair.
But a quiet, burning resolve.
I'll take care of it, he thought.
I'll take care of everything you couldn't finish.
Outside the viewport, the Moon remained unchanged.
But for Kyousuke Asagi—
The war had crossed a line it could never uncross.
Agamemnon-class Refit "BEOWULF" | Later That Morning
The Beowulf felt different after dawn.
It wasn't quieter—machines still hummed, crews still moved—but something essential was missing, like a constant vibration that had suddenly stopped. Word traveled fast, even without an announcement.
Captain Marcus Hale was dead.
No alarms marked it.
No orders followed.
Only silence where his voice used to be.
---
Observation Corridor
Kyousuke Asagi stood alone, staring out at the Moon.
He hadn't slept. He wasn't sure he could. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard Hale's voice—calm, rough around the edges, steady even when everything else wasn't.
Take care, kid.
His fingers curled slowly.
"I didn't get to say thank you," Kyousuke whispered.
The reflection in the glass looked older than it had days ago.
Footsteps approached—measured, heavy.
Commander Isaac Rowan stopped beside him, helmet under one arm.
"He never liked goodbyes," Rowan said quietly. "Would've hated a dramatic one."
Kyousuke swallowed. "He saved me. More than once."
Rowan nodded. "That's who Hale was. He didn't shield people because it was his job."
He glanced at Kyousuke.
"He did it because he chose to."
---
Memorial — Hangar Deck
They didn't have time for a formal ceremony.
So they made do.
Hale's flight jacket was folded neatly atop a crate, his personal insignia resting on it. Around it stood pilots, engineers, medics—anyone who had flown under his command or survived because of it.
Maya Feld stood rigid, eyes forward.
"He kept saying snipers should never get attached," she said quietly. "Guess he was lying."
Leo Vargas sniffed hard, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. "He… he told me barriers aren't just shields. They're promises."
No one laughed.
Captain Helena Brandt stepped forward.
"Marcus Hale died doing exactly what he always did," she said. "Holding the line so others could live."
She looked directly at Kyousuke.
"And because of him, this ship still has pilots who can fight."
The crew bowed their heads.
Kyousuke felt the weight settle fully then—not crushing, but heavy enough to change how he stood.
---
Later — Kyousuke's Quarters
Kyousuke sat on his bunk, Hale's words echoing in his mind.
You adapt.
He stared at his gloves—scratched, burned, repaired too many times.
"I froze," he said softly. "And you paid for it."
The anger came next.
Not wild.
Not loud.
Cold.
Focused.
Librarian Works.
Carbon Humans.
Machines that used people's pain as data.
"They did this," Kyousuke said, voice steady now. "They planned it."
And for the first time, the thought didn't scare him.
It anchored him.
---
Bridge — BEOWULF
Captain Brandt stood before the main display as reports scrolled endlessly.
"Arzachel remains compromised," an officer reported. "ZAFT has pulled back to regroup. OMNI command is demanding answers."
Brandt's jaw tightened.
"Librarian achieved their objective," Rowan said. "They tested us. Took data. And walked away."
Brandt turned.
"Not unchallenged."
She looked to Kyousuke, who stood at the back of the bridge, posture straight despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Asagi."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You flew through hell and came back," Brandt said. "And you didn't break."
Kyousuke met her gaze.
"I almost did."
She nodded. "Almost doesn't count."
A pause.
"You're reassigned," Brandt continued. "Permanent attachment to Beowulf's combat wing."
Rowan raised an eyebrow. Maya glanced over. Leo straightened.
Kyousuke didn't speak immediately.
Then he said, "I won't be a replacement for Captain Hale."
Brandt shook her head.
"No," she said. "You'll be something else."
---
Final Moments of the Scene
Kyousuke returned to the observation deck once more.
The Moon hung there—scarred, indifferent, eternal.
"I won't let them turn this into just data," he said quietly. "Not my pain. Not his."
Marcus Hale had believed in him when he was just a transfer pilot with too much history and not enough armor.
Now, that belief lived on—heavy, burning, unyielding.
Kyousuke Asagi straightened his shoulders.
The war had taken his parents.
It had taken his captain.
But it had also given him something he hadn't had before.
A reason that went beyond survival.
And somewhere in the darkness—between Librarian shadows and stolen fortresses—
The people responsible would one day learn:
Some pilots don't disappear when you break their world.
They evolve.